


Petrichor

by orphan_account



Category: The Hobbit (2012), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Coming of Age, Drama, Family Fluff, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Minor Character Death
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-01-21
Updated: 2013-01-21
Packaged: 2017-11-26 09:06:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,563
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/648921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fili never had a coming of age ceremony because he was stuck somewhere in the middle of nowhere with only his mother at his side and grieving the loss of his father.</p><p>It starts to take a toll on him when Kili comes of age and has a grand celebration ceremony  and people start whispering on how Fili must surely not be of the line of Durin as he has received no ceremony.</p><p>Thorin is having none of that gossip bullshit and puts his foot down.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Petrichor

**Author's Note:**

> Fill for this kink meme prompt:
> 
> "Kili has an elaborate celebration for his coming-of-age. Fili never had one (because of reasons; everything unsettled at the time, bigger problems, an oversight). Maybe Fili/other dwarfs even think it was deliberate because there have always been these rumors about the fact that Fili is so fair when the line of Durin is known for their dark, brooding looks.
> 
> When Thorin realizes, he tries to make it right.
> 
> Note: It could be a psuedo-answer for why there's a discrepency between "The Hobbit" and the appendices on Fili's age."
> 
> -
> 
> Petrichor: The smell of rain on dry ground.

A week before Fili's coming of age ceremony, raiders find the town. They are nimble and small and quiet and no Orcs, Orcs don't wield dwarven blades or have beards or fight like Mahal's fire burns within them. It is a band of dwarves and they leave a trail of destruction behind. The bodies of Men litter the streets and a few dwarves lie injured between the houses, both races sustaining losses during the attack. The cautious balance they have been maintaining for almost thirty years is broken and the remaining humans, humans who Fili remembers growing up with, watching them fall in love and marry and have children of their own, they take up arms and march to the few dwarven houses standing in the northern part of the city.

 

Fili, too young to understand the darkness grief brings forth in everyone, runs home when he sees them march, cheerfully informing his mother that Men are coming towards their homes, carrying hammers and pikes and torches. Back then he thought that they'd wanted to help rebuild one of the houses which had burned during the raid but his smile grows dim when he sees his mother's face pale and the haste with which she starts packing, calling for her husband.

 

The last thing Fili's father does before facing the group of Men marching for their home is to run a hand through his son's hair and smile at him. He has always gotten along with the Men, Fili knows, and he hopes against all odds that his father will be able to soothe the raw, open wound.

 

While the day still tries to lull them into a false sense of security, Dis and Fili grab what they need for their escape. A few clothes go into Fili's backpack, the bag almost overflowing. Dis tries to fit as much of the larder's contents as she can into her own backpack before grabbing only a handful of the jewelry that she has usually stored away in a box in the bedroom she shares with her husband.

 

Outside, the noises of unrest grow until a scream pierces the air. After that, everything seems to fall into chaos. Men are suddenly swarming the streets, faces angry as they wave the torches and set fire to the houses, uncaring that dwarves are still in there, attacking those who try to flee.

 

Fili is terrified when their front door is kicked open and two men are entering their house, splattered with blood and driven by something Fili doesn't entirely understand. Their eyes are filled with grief and anger and hunger and they smash their hammers down on the furniture before Fili has drawn another breath. He is hiding in the kitchen, fiddling with the knife his father left behind in order to show that he means the Men no harm. Panic spreads through his veins when he notices the Men catching sight of the stairs because his mother is still up there, trying to collect the things Kili left behind before he left for his apprenticeship with their uncle.

 

A short cry and a loud roar make Fili squeeze his eyes shut before he holds the knife in the way his father has shown him and rushes upstairs. The first one he gets by stabbing him in the back twice, twisting the knife until blood gushes over his fingers. He pulls the knife out and advances on the second one, rage clouding his heart because he can spy a bruise blossoming on his mother's cheek and the way her wonderfully braided hair is in such disarray.

 

He is not young enough to hope that the man will leave if asked nicely and yet not old enough to not hesitate. So the man attacks him with a scream akin to a cornered beast and slams into Fili, pressing him down against the floor as hands wrap around Fili's throat, pressing and squeezing. Dwalin has been teaching Fili how to get out of a situation like this and oh, Fili tries. He tries going for the man's eyes, tries to kick him between the legs, tries to find a way to push the man of without having to injure him but in the end, when no punching or kicking helps, Fili lifts his knife and rams it into the man's stomach.

 

The shirt his mother made for him, the one she finished a week ago and the one he's now wearing is covered in blood. Fili pushes the body above him off, the man groaning and whimpering and fighting for his life. The young dwarf can't bring himself to care, not right now, when the man screams as Fili pulls the knife out.

 

His mother pulls him up and into a brief hug before they're both running, one of Fili's hand's holding on to his mother's, the other still clutching his father's knife.

 

They pass his body but they can't afford to stop even as Dis lets out a raw sob at seeing her One lying there in a pool of his own blood, eyes staring unseeing at the midday sun.

 

They flee the city that has been Fili's home for so many years.

 

At the edge of the nearby forest they wait for other dwarves who manage to escape. Fili counts how many have made it and finds grim satisfaction in his heart when he learns that almost all of them have made it. He wants to do nothing but curl up and cry but he's almost an adult so he pulls himself together, straightens his back and helps his mother organize their journey to Ered Luin. He asks around which supplies they were all able to squirrel away, tends to those who have sustained burns or other injuries and spends the next few hours carrying a young child in his arms as they make their way across the countryside. They weight is familiar and with dread filling his bones, Fili wonders if his brother would be lying next to their father right now if he'd been home.

 

He has never been more grateful that his mother had sent Kili away for half a year. Knowing that he is with their uncle, safe and happy, makes Fili breathe easier.

 

Dis, however, looks hollow-eyed and tired and lost and brokenhearted and Fili spends the first two days of their journey very close to her, always keeping her within his line of sight.

 

Then the familiar fire returns to her eyes, the fire of the line of Durin. She grieves, Fili knows because he does, too, tears stinging in his eyes as they wade through a river, when they brave a thunderstorm and when they curl up at night.

 

It is somewhere between the roads that he comes of age and Fili doesn't even notice, too busy keeping an eye on everyone, cheering up the younger children and making sure they have enough rations for everyone.

 

The fire is cackling away in the dim night when Dis settles down next to him and places a hand over his own. She knows Fili is still blaming himself for forgetting all his lessons when the people invaded their home, how to fight, how to defend and what to do. He knows how to handle it in theory but harsh reality is always different.

 

Dis doesn't blame him. When he looks at her, eyes older than she remembers them being, she smiles at him until he returns it and allows himself to rest his forehead against her shoulder. His hair gleams like gold in the flickering light and Dis thinks, heart weary, that this is not how it should have been. His hair is still unadorned, he should have received beads and clasps and weapons on this day, there should have been singing and dancing. Here between the crossroads, they have no time for proper celebrations and grand gifts.

 

Instead, Fili's mother pulls back and reaches up to unravel one of her braids, pulling the bead holding it all together out of her hair. Fili grumbles when she moves but lies down to rest his head on her lap at her prodding. Humming, she starts to run her hands through his hair, hair that is like her grandmother's. She collects a couple of strands and works until there is a fine braid hanging down the right side of Fili's face. Gently, she clasps the bead around the end and then leans back as Fili reaches up, feeling along the braid, fingers stilling when he feels the bead against his fingers. Wordlessly, he turns his head until he can look her into the eyes and somewhere in the middle of nowhere, they share a private smile filled with sorrow.

 

Thorin finds them all a few days later and doesn't ask where Dis' husband is. He sees the grief in their hearts and merely closes his eyes as he pulls his sister into a hug. Kili is still craning his neck, trying to find someone who isn't there before he turns to his brother and reads the answer to his unvoiced question in the tired lines around Fili's eyes. Tears run down his cheeks as he shakes his head wildly, trying to deny the truth and Fili can do nothing but hold him through the pain.

 

It's not nearly enough but Fili wills it to be.


End file.
